From a distance, the spaceship looked like a shooting star, falling up into the ocean of the evening blue sky, like a grain of sand, or a speck of glitter. Boy Birdsong and Viola Forsberg, sitting together at five in the evening, wished on a spaceship. They tried not to think too hard, in fear it would all become a memory. It seems, even sitting in the present peace of it, every thought becomes a memory. Everything starts falling together, all the past and presents and futures. 
          Ten months ago, in the first days of summer, Boy Birdsong was blowing out the dripping wax candles on a melting pink birthday cake, making a wish. It used to scare her, feeling she had to sum up everything she had and everything she wanted with a short phrase in her mind. But finally she decided there didn’t need to be any words for it. It’s everything she’s had, everything she has, and everything she will have. Ten days from this Viola Forsberg will stand in her front yard, blowing the fairies off a dandelion. She could never sum up her wish with a few words, because she doesn’t know what her wish is. Her uncle told her once, sipping from a glass of wine at a rare family reunion, that a wish wouldn’t come true if you told it to anyone. Viola took this so seriously her wishes became secret even to herself. 
          Boy and Viola’s silence sat together. Viola looked at Boy's soft face. Like two black holes, her eyes reflected no light, and sometimes it seemed, Vi could read her thoughts through them. She could hear the ocean of memories she held, and the sky of dreams above it. In Violas gray blue eyes, Boy could hear the peaceful, secret, silence in her. The trust that somewhere, the fire, fairies, and stars were holding the wishes for her. Finally, Viola spoke, her voice smooth and low as the strings of a violin. She said it was time to go. 
          So they went down the sidewalk as they always did. Cracked and shimmering gray concrete, under their racing shoes, holding them sturdy. Boy was far in front of her, as always, and in the shadow she could see Viola a few steps behind. Never could either of them have wished so simply for such a thing. A ground, which could promise with no hesitancy to hold their weight, and a shadow, which could swear to pure honesty anything behind them. When Boys' lungs began to feel as though they were being pierced by a sharp nail, she stopped her running and leaned against the wall, panting. Viola passed her, and waited at the stop sign. Once Boy caught back up, she kept walking, as though Boy had never fallen behind. They kept walking till they made it to the warm, little candy shop, tucked between the pharmacist and apartment building. 
          The dark mahogany walls inside were lined with shelves of cherry cordials, sour candies, caramels, and fruit gummies. The girls took the quarters from their wallets and each got two gumballs. 
          It was nearly seven now. Viola had to get home to do chores and Boy had to watch her little sister. But a car parked nearby was blasting a radio song and the girls ended up dancing. They smiled at each other. The tight orange curls of Boy’s hair seemed to glow like a halo in the setting sun as she lashed and moved with the music. Viola, her blonde hair so light it matched her white button up, swayed in the wind and sung along. Finally, as the red sunset sky began to wilt black, Boy Birdsong and Viola Forsberg hugged each other goodbye. Viola's hands were as soft and gentle as a blanket, and Boy could feel the soft pulse in her wrist. Boy’s arms were warm and held Viola tight. Like the seeds of a dandelion, and the flame of a candle, the two held each other's wishes safe and secret. Even as the moment ended, and again fell behind them, the only thing they didn’t need to wish for, was the certainty that the other would be there.